“Too far.” I twisted away from her. “This is insanity! Who’s actually going to come into our pantry and look at the food?”
“Ah-hah!” She jutted her chin out. “And yet you mistreat cereal boxes!”
“It looks better!”
“So”—she crossed her arms—“my food looks better in here too.”
I gripped my hair and tugged. “You’re impossible!”
“I’m your soon-to-be wife.”
“Same damn thing!”
She just grinned.
And I hated how that grin made me want to return the favor, made me want to kiss it away, punish, please.
I gripped the countertop. “I need to get ready, are we still on for later today, our two hours?”
Her face fell like she was upset I wasn’t fighting with her. I knew it would be seconds before I kissed her if I stayed. I was torn between wanting to yell and wanting to strip her dress with my teeth and scrape them down her neck. “Wait, you’re just dropping it?”
“One of us”—I tilted her chin toward me—“knows exactly what it’s like to compromise, to give up everything for another person’s happiness and suffer for it—so sure, I’ll give in. I’m used to being the one giving in, except back then I was at least getting laid for it.” I smirked at her angry gaze. “So, I’ll tell you what, you can keep all of this shit in here, paint every wall in the fucking house, under one condition.”
“I show you my boobs?” she countered in a weak voice.
“Everything.” I leaned down until my lips almost brushed across her neck. “I want you to show me everything, and I want you to let me claim every single part of it . . .”
“Extortion.” She winked. “I won’t fall for it.”
“And yet, something tells me you will.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What? Why? Why would you say that?”
I just snickered and walked off.
“Jessie!” Her heels clicked after me. “Jessie, I don’t like that look.”
“What look?” I called over my shoulder before saying under my breath, “Damn, she looks good in red.”
Chapter Twenty
ISLA
“So.” Blaire eyed me wearily. “How was the first night with the man of your dreams?”
I slammed my hands down on the desk and sucked in a breath. “Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Abby spewed out her coffee.
Dirty little eavesdropper.
“Not for that reason,” I called over my shoulder with an eye roll. “Trust me, that would have been better than discovering what I did.”
Blaire leaned in, Abby put the call on hold, Penny wrapped her tail around my legs.
“So?” Blaire urged.
“The psychopath opens cereal from the bottom of the box.” I made a motion with my hands while Blaire frowned. “Exactly! It’s strange. That’s what sociopaths do!”
“What? You looked it up online?”
“It’s a hunch,” I grumbled. “Besides, who the hell cares!”
“Jessie, clearly.” Blaire grinned. “So did he say why?”
“It’s pleasing to the eye.” I almost growled. “It’s weird, okay? And he didn’t even think to get milk, so I poured three pathetic spurts of milk into my midnight snack and almost suffocated him in his sleep.”
“Completely logical reaction,” Abby said sarcastically.
That’s the thing, though. I was the rational one.
I was the one who calculated, thought things out.
Jessie just brought out the worst in me. The need to verbally spar and physically strangle him over an empty box of Fruity Pebbles.
I’d never felt so out of control, and the minute I thought I had the upper hand he’d get that flicker in his eyes and I’d feel off balance again.
“Can’t wait to see what happens tonight at the game.” Blaire rubbed her hands together while I nearly passed out across my desk. “Hey, at least try to look excited, you know how awesome it’s going to be watching the LA Rams from box seats?”
“So. Awesome.” My mouth felt like a desert as I chugged more coffee. “So awesome that we’re going to be in front of TV crews and thousands of fans, people who are waiting for Jessie to fail again, people prying into my life with the wrong assumptions.”
“All you guys need to worry about is looking like you’re in love.” Blaire said it like it was easily done, but most of the time Jessie and I looked ready to kiss only during or after a heated argument.
“Right.” I adjusted my blouse and reached for my black-rimmed reading glasses. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”
The door buzzed.
I jerked my head up. “That’s our appointment with Danica.”
“Let’s do this.” Blaire handed me a fresh bottle of water as we made our way to the front of the office to meet our new client.
The minute she saw us, she started shaking and then averted her eyes like she wasn’t used to people noticing her. It was one of the first clues that something else was going on in the relationship, something bad, possible emotional or physical abuse. My heart sank.
I held out my hand. “I’m Isla, are you Danica? I know this is a very sensitive situation, but we need to get the facts, first from you, and then from our own research.”
“And”—she lifted a shaky hand to her face to wipe a tear—“he’ll never know?”
“Never,” Blaire piped up and handed her a tissue.
I hated these situations, ones where the woman is so terrified of the guy she married that she can’t even get help.
I nodded encouragingly. Brown hair fell across her bony shoulders, she was model thin with high cheekbones and long, jean-clad legs. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she was still in college.
“Okay.” Danica wiped another tear. “It all started a few weeks ago when I found a note in his jacket pocket, there were lipstick prints on the paper and a phone number attached. When I called it, it was just a generic voice mail. I ended the call and haven’t done anything since.”
Blaire took notes while I pulled Danica next to me and held her hand while she kept crying.
I hated what relationships did to people.
The way they destroyed souls that were meant to be united—ripping them apart in the end, ruining everything. The anger that once again burned so bright in my heart flared with each tear she shed.
How dare men think they have a right to cheat on a woman just because they’re bored? Can’t they keep it in their pants?
I was completely okay with people parting on good terms.
What wasn’t I okay with?
Liars.
I hated liars.
And her husband sounded like he was guilty of just that if her story matched up with the recon mission I was going to need to do.
I kept listening as she told me about their two kids, and they even had a family dog that was dying of cancer.
“Seriously?” I muttered under my breath as I took in all the things in her life that were being affected by her bastard of a husband’s selfish actions.
I underlined the word bastard about seventeen times before Blaire cleared her throat. I normally didn’t take notes, so she probably saw the word and needed me to refocus.
I rallied. “It looks like we have everything we need, one of us will tail him after work and get pictures. We’ll get the evidence, if there is any, and we’ll do our best to make sure you have everything you need to make a clean break so you can take care of your children and—” I almost got choked up. “What’s the dog’s name?”
“Fluffer,” she sobbed into her ratty Kleenex.
“She must be small.”
“She’s a Great Dane.”
“Alright then.” Blaire patted Danica’s back, helped her to her feet, and offered her hand. Danica shook it and then gave us both tight hugs before walking out of the office.
“I so need wine after that one.” Blaire sighed and collapsed back onto the couch. “Nothin
g seemed . . . off about her?”
“You mean other than naming her Great Dane Fluffer?” I yawned and then smiled a tired, weak smile. “Nah, she just seems upset, as she should be.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Why?” I tilted my head. “You think she’s lying?”
“I’m not sure, she just seemed . . .” Blaire chewed her lower lip. “It could just be because I’m gun-shy after the Vanessa thing.”
I snorted. “That makes two of us.”
“It’s nothing. I’ll start gathering info.”
I nodded and checked my phone, and let out a little groan. “Four hours before the world’s introduced to Jessie’s next wife—next flame—next everything.” I was nervous. Rightfully so.
We’d agreed that in order for people to believe us, we had to stay together for longer than a month.
Which led us to discussing six months.
And ended up agreeing on a year.
Of living together.
Sharing everything together.
Eating together.
Keeping up appearances.
But I was saving my business. I was doing the right thing.
Jessie, however.
I frowned.
Still confused about that man and why I was so fascinated by him one minute and ready to kill him the next.
My phone pinged with a calendar update.
Meeting with Danica rescheduled. She’ll call and make arrangements later this week.
I sighed. No matter what Jessie’s intentions, I was going to follow through with the farce, save my business, my reputation, and save that girl’s marriage, or end it. People like Danica needed us, and I wasn’t going to back down from this engagement just because I was afraid.
I gulped.
And shoved the fear away.
Chapter Twenty-One
JESSIE
I wasn’t ready.
Was anyone ever prepared to step into the limelight? I’d been at it for years and it still gave me anxiety. With the TV screens, the flashing lights, the applause? The constant judgment about my life when most people didn’t even know the first thing about me? That was what was wrong with the celebrity lifestyle.
The judgment.
People were invited into your life through interviews and social media, and the minute they found a flaw, they pounced like rabid wolves.
Human.
They find out you’re human.
And rather than rejoice in it.
They berate you for it.
They hate you for it.
They detest you for ruining the spell.
I clenched my fists on the wheel as I pulled my car up next to Colin’s. The girls had ridden with him since I had a meeting at the gym we owned and thought I’d be late.
Colin knew it was a lie.
There was no meeting.
But I’d needed some time alone.
Some time to think about all the reasons I was doing this, willing to jump back into the very thing that had suffocated my last marriage. I’d married Vanessa out of love and quickly learned it was all a ruse, so we pretended for the media, just like I was doing now.
I’d even made a damn list comparing this situation and the last, where Vanessa slowly sucked the life out of me with this incessant need for us to be the perfect couple.
I didn’t want to do that again.
I also didn’t have a choice.
My chest felt tight as I got out of the car and waited for Isla to do the same. I expected her to be in the same red dress. Vanessa wouldn’t have been caught dead in anything less than designer, especially when photographed.
But she wasn’t in a dress.
Or gown.
She was in a Rams jersey with her face painted. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail that made her look even prettier than before. She smiled wide and pulled out a foam finger, then charged toward me.
I opened my arms.
Not because it was expected.
But because her excitement was contagious.
I suddenly felt stupid in my nice, white button-down shirt and black slacks.
Her breasts pressed against my chest. I let out the air I’d been holding with such a whoosh that my entire body relaxed against her.
“What do you think?” She blinked up at me, smile wide, cherry-red lipstick glistening.
I gave my head a shake and whispered, “I think if I was on the opposing team I’d lose on purpose in order to have you tackle me.”
“Jessie, are you saying you’d let me blitz your ass?”
I chuckled. “Well, maybe not my ass—”
Isla made a face and reached for my hand. “You know what I meant.”
“And you know what I meant,” I said under my breath as if I needed a reminder about our ultimatum this morning, letting her create chaos in my life for sex. It had been a stupid thing to say, but she’d made me angry.
Angry that she was right.
Angry that the first color I’d seen in my house hadn’t actually caused anxiety like I’d originally felt, but excitement.
I’d take it to my grave.
The feeling had been so foreign I’d misdiagnosed it.
Isla froze as Blaire and Colin ran up in front of us and talked with security.
“You can do this.” I found myself looking down at her. “All you have to do is watch the game and try not to slap me too many times in front of everyone.”
“Promises, promises,” she joked in a weak voice.
“Would it make you feel better if I handed you the staff schedules for the gym and a few highlighters? You can highlight the times?” I teased.
Her eyes actually lit up.
“Wow, forget chocolate for Valentine’s Day, I’m sending you to the staff secretary to organize.”
“Dream come true.” Her voice was sad, and then she was smiling again. “And while that would make me feel better, I think people would assume I was ignoring you on purpose, and we don’t want that.”
She reached up and undid a few more buttons of my shirt and pulled it wide.
“Better?” I asked.
With a nod, her hands were back at her sides, and I felt the loss immediately. All it took was her cold fingers near my chest and I was ready to toss her over my shoulder and lock her in my bedroom.
Maybe it had just been too long since I’d had sex.
I was the problem.
Not Isla.
I sighed in frustration, gripped her hand with both of mine, and rubbed back and forth to warm her up. “Let’s go.”
She stared at my hands surrounding hers like she didn’t know how to respond, and the last thing I wanted to do was explain I just liked touching her.
Taking care of her.
Because I’d never really been needed for anything until the charity.
Vanessa only wanted me for my fame, my money, my position.
Not for me.
I was more than all of that.
Colin turned back to us, his arm wrapped around Blaire. They gave us encouraging smiles like everything was going to go smoothly, but I knew that wasn’t always the case.
The press could be relentless.
“Deep breaths,” Isla said. I wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit or hers, but we both seemed to inhale at the same time and brace ourselves as we followed Colin and Blaire into the private entrance. We didn’t see any fans or press on our way to the box, but I knew that it wasn’t about the walk to the box, it was about the cameras pointing in our direction between plays.
One of the attendants opened the door and ushered us inside.
It was just the four of us and a full staff, including a bartender, which was a nice touch if we were going to have to be smiling for the cameras.
Isla let out a little gasp. “We’re so high!”
Her excitement was real.
The woman was pumped about how high we were? Imagine how excited she would be once the food came out and the game started.
>
We were just in time for the players to get announced. Isla’s attention never wavered from the field as she and Blaire yelled with the rest of the crowd like their tiny voices helped.
Colin let out a laugh and then went to the bartender and grabbed us both drinks.
He held out a whiskey to me.
I stared at it, then looked over at Isla. “Why is she dancing in a circle?”
“Blaire told her we were playing the Seahawks, and she has a crush on Richard Sherman.”
“Bullshit!” I shoved the whiskey away and glared at the cornerback already on the field. I wasn’t sure if it was him, but I wanted him to feel my eyes.
“I was kidding!” Colin called.
Making me feel like an idiot.
I stomped back and glared.
He held out the whiskey again.
I hesitated.
Which I never did.
I always drank whiskey in public. Vanessa said it looked more refined, that beer appeared too white trash for our tastes.
So I’d suffered.
Never again.
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m grabbing a beer.”
You’d think I’d just told him I was going vegan.
His mouth dropped open a bit before Blaire rushed over, grabbed the discarded whiskey, and clinked her glass with Colin’s. “You boys ready for this?”
“Yeah.” Colin smiled at me, a genuine smile that almost made me feel like he was proud of me, which was ridiculous. I shrugged it off and grabbed a beer for me and a glass of red for Isla, then found my seat next to her.
“Cheers.” I clinked my bottle with her glass after handing it to her.
She grinned excitedly, then took a deep sip and moaned as she closed her eyes. “You know me well.”
I’m sure she didn’t mean to say it.
Just like my heart didn’t mean to react to the words.
My body felt warm all over as her eyes met mine.
I cleared my throat and looked away while she returned her attention to the game.
I was all too aware of how close we were sitting, of how hard I was just brushing my hands against her body.
Dangerous Exes (Liars, Inc. Book 2) Page 9